Of Nightmares and Laughter
by MissMurder.exe
Summary: Harleen Quinzel has recently begun her career at Arkham Asylum, and is greeted with the immense task of analyzing the mind of a raving psychopath, and a dangerous criminal; The Clown Prince of Crime, himself. Harley falls head over heels for The Joker, but, meanwhile someone else has fallen for her.
1. Harls

Harleen Quinzel started the morning as any other woman would.

She drug herself from her peaceful and welcoming bed, out to scower the kitchen for food. She tripped ungracefully over her own numb feet, all while cursing herself for forgetting her slippers beside her bed. Her stomach growled and groaned at her irritably as she awaited her bagel and coffee. After they had cooked and cooled, she unceremoniously scarfed them down, and dumped her dished into the sink. "I'll clean them later." She assured herself.

She waltzed into the bathroom, where she turned on her shower; a leaky old thing with terrible pressure, but what else did she expect for so low of a rent price? She stripped down, leaving her clothes in a heap on the tile before climbing into the shower, and sliding the door shut. She enjoyed long, lazy showers in scaldingly hot water. She sighed happily, before picking up the bar of soap, and humming a little tune as she got to work.

A little longer than twenty minutes later, she _emerged_ from the bathroom, bright red and clean. She dried off and dressed herself, applying a thin sheen of makeup and red lipstick before heading out the door, purse hung hazardously on her bony shoulder, tipping with each awkward little leap of excitement she made.

Today would be her first session as the infamous Joker's psychiatrist.

 _This is where her life would begin._


	2. Johnny-boy

**Authors notes: Hey guys! Thanks for reviewing, I'm pretty excited about this whole thing myself. The chapters will be fairly short, but I'm trying to update daily, so there will be A LOT of chapters. Any-who, this may seem odd that I just switched from Harls to Crane, but I'm doing the same morning from the POV of each character (Harls, Crane, Joker) on the same morning. Stay with me folks! I'm putting in quite a bit of work on this one.**

 **Kisses and hugses!**

 **~Miss Murder**

The way she walked

The way she sipped her coffee

Her laugh

Her smile

Her gaze

Those eyes...

There seemed to be no end to the new psychiatrist. No one could agree more than her coworker, Jonathan Crane. He knew he was torturing himself by letting his mind wander to her, or allowing his eyes to trail up her legs in those pencil skirts she wore. Worst of all were _the dreams_. He could picture the absolute terror in her eyes, he could hear her screams, he could envision her flailing and crying out as he gave her a taste of her worst nightmares with his toxin. Though he hated to admit it, it was slightly arousing. On this particular morning, he awoke, groaning in distaste at his now soiled sheets. He didn't react like this; never, ever. What about her in particular made him do this? He did a mental analysis of himself while tearing the sheets from the bed. He balled the sheets up, and stumbled through his apartment to the laundry machine, all the while trying to conjure up an explanation. Eventually, he gave up (a rare occasion). He rubbed his eyes, willing them to adjust to the sudden daylight streaming through the windows of his flat. He got himself ready for work, did a once over in the mirror, and began the trek to the asylum.

 _This would be a long day._


	3. Daddy's girl

**Hai guyz. How goes it? I hope you're all enjoying the start of this Father's Day weekend! I certainly am; NO REHEARSAL ON WEEKENDS PRAISE THE LOOOORDDD!**

 **Alright, I'm done. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **~Miss Murder3xoxo**

"Harley, Harley-Quinn, Harley Girl... _my little Harley..."_ The Joker cackled away inside his cell. His cackles soon changed to laughter, which soon became painfully loud, and enraged. He wasn't the type to plan, neither was he the type to wait, but Daddy's little girl required this of him, and for his little Harley doll, he would be willing to wait. He sighed blissfully. Simply imagining her, bloody, bruised, splotched with blood and markings from _his hands. God,_ the very thought was arousing. She was deliciously activating. He didn't understand how she could... _provoke_ him like this, and he didn't like not understanding, but she somehow quelled, and fueled his anger simultaneously;

And he loved it.

"Harley...Harley...Harley-girl..."


	4. Explain yourself

**Here's where they get long people! I think...**

 **Who knows.**

 **~Merry Murderess**

When Harleen finally arrived at her office, she was greeted by her co-worker, Dr. Crane. She hated to admit it, but he slightly scared her. His piercing blue eyes tended to glance at her, then hold the stare for what seemed like hours. It caused the hair on her neck to rise it inexplicable fear. His manor was quirky, to say the least, and his social awkwardness concerned her. He was sweet, that was true enough, but everything else about him screamed 'nutso'.

On this particular morning, he had arrived around the same time as she had, and politely opened the door for her. A common gesture, minus the intense stare she received from him.

"Good morning, Jonathan."

"Good morning, Dr. Quinzel."

She paused, "You could just call me Harleen, or Harley; everyone does."

It was now his turn to freeze up.

"Ah, yes, of course...Dr. Qu-...Harley." He bunched and un-bunched his fists, trying desperately to think of some way to convey to her his thoughts. _Did he even grasp his thoughts on her himself?_

 _"You idiot!"_

 _"_ Pardon?"

Johnathan glanced at her incredulously, "Wha-..."

"That's rather rude! I believe I'll be going now..."

Jonathan cursed himself thrice, helplessly trying to explain himself. All he could muster were stuttered whines.

"Harleen-I-wait...!"

"Good day, Dr. Crane."

 _So much for 'explaining my feelings'..._


End file.
